A Day to Remember
by kandisi
Summary: Slash, Carter x Alex. Alex wakes up in Paris with a killer hangover, and though he knows he got together with someone the night before at the club he, Carter, and Clear were all at, he can't remember who... A visit from Carter jogs his memory.


**A Day to Remember**

So this was it.

Alex, Clear, and Carter had finally made it.

Finally made it to Paris, France.

Alex Browning was currently in his hotel room. He and his two friends had gone out partying the night before at a club, and Alex had gotten completely trashed. He had a killer hangover, come to think.

Just then, a knock on the door was heard. Alex groaned, getting off of the bed. He walked over to the front door, and opened it, expecting to see Clear with a box of Advil.

Only it was Carter Horton instead.

"Hey Browning," Cater said, "Can I come in?"

Alex nodded, stepping out of the way so Carter could enter.

Carter walked into the room, and sat down on the bed's edge. "So you're really hungover, right?"

Alex nodded. "Yeah, I have killer headache. But seriously, you drank more than I did, how come you're not hungover?"

Carter laughed. "Because I have a high tolerance, man. Unlike you. You can't handle your liquor at _all_. You should have _seen_ yourself last night. By the end of the night, Clear and I had to drag you out of the club. You passed out in one of the backrooms."

"Don't remind me," Alex sighed, "I know I made-out with someone _in_ the backroom, I just can't remember who... Don't you _dare_ tell Clear."

"I won't," Carter assured. Then Carter observed as Alex got out of piece of paper from his pant's pocket, before unfolding it.

"Oh man not that shit again," Carter cursed, for Alex had gotten out their damned seating arrangements on flight 180, a-gain.

"There's something I still don't understand about the design," Alex said, "On the plain, I intervened, with you, I intervened, but in my case... no intervene. For all I know death could circle around and come back for us."

Fuck.

Alex was right.

"We'll talk about it when we go out for drinks later tonight," Carter replied, trying to stay cool, "But this time... you had better stick with a light beer."

Alex sighed, turning on the radio. Then, that damned John Denver's 'Rocky Mountain High' in French came on. Alex promptly threw the small radio across the room.

"If I never hear John Denver again for the rest of my life, it'll be too soon," Alex complained, causing Carter to laugh out loud once again.

Alex knew Carter had been right, though. He could bring up the 'death' issue again later when they were all having drinks later that night. It's not like they had anything to worry about... right?

Alex sat down on the bed next to Carter, hoping that Clear would get back with his Advil soon. He swore his headache was getting worse.

Alex looked at Carter, and into those dark, brown eyes. He swore he had seen those eyes looking at him, this way, before...

And that's when it hit him.

Alex gasped. "Oh fuck, I remember now... It was _you_. _You_ were the person I made-out with last night in the backroom..."

Carter turned his head. "I... I don't know what you're talking about, Browning..."

"Like hell you don't! I remember it clear as day now. You-you took me back there! You took me into the backroom!"

Carter stood up, turning around to face Alex. "I told you, I don't know what you're talking about!" he repeated, "So shut the fuck up!"

"Are you in love with me or something? Is that why you're having such a hard time admitting this?"

"N-No," Carter stuttered, his face turning read. "Where would you get that idea?"

Alex looked annoyed.

And angry.

"Alright!" Carter snapped-out, "Alright, I admit it. I was drunk, alright? I didn't know what I was doing."

But Carter was lying. Sure, he'd been a little buzzed, but he hadn't been drunk. It was the only thing he could think of saying, though. Carter still remembered it. Alex had been out on the dance floor, dancing with Clear, when Carter had interrupted and pulled Alex away, saying he had something important to tell him.

Then, Carter had led Alex into one of the backrooms. Upon entering, Carter had promptly and abruptly slammed Alex against the wall, closing the distance between their faces before he ravished the other boy's lips with his own. As the music outside played, they had begun grinding into one another. Fuck, Carter was getting hard again just _thinking_ about it.

And Alex remembered it, too. Things probably would've progressed farther, had Alex not passed-out back there, in Carter's arms of all places.

Question was, now what did Alex do? Start a fight with Carter for trying to seduce him? Hit him? Kiss him again?

"What are you thinking, Browning?" Carter inquired hesitantly.

"I... I was thinking that it wasn't that bad..." Alex murmured, "I had a really great time last night... It was one of the first times in a long time that I... didn't think of all the bad stuff that happened back home, you know?"

"That so, huh?"

Alex smiled. "Yeah."

Just then, a knock on the door was heard. Carter sighed.

The moment had been ruined.

Carter went an answered the door so Alex wouldn't have to get up. Of course, it was Clear.

"Hey Carter," Clear said as she entered the hotel room, her eyes then drifting to Alex. "Hi baby, headache any better?"

"A little," Alex responded. Clear ambled over and handed Alex the fresh box of Advil, and Alex promptly opened it. He got out three tablets, and took them with some water.

"Are you guys ready to go out for breakfast?" Clear inquired, looking at Alex. She hoped that he felt well enough to go.

"I don't really feel like it; you guys go ahead," Alex said.

"Well, alright then," Clear replied, "C'mon Carter."

"Actually..." Carter began, "I'm not feeling so hot, either. I think my hangover is finally catching up with me. You go ahead."

"Okay," Clear remarked, "I'll bring you two back some donuts, okay?"

"Chocolate," Carter said.

Clear smiled. "Sure thing. Well, buy you guys. See you when I get back."

And with that said, Clear exited the room.

"I know why you did that, Carter," Alex said, trying to fight back a grin.

Carter looked at Alex, a shark of a smile on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alex stood up, and walked over to the front door. He took the 'Do not disturb' sign, and hung it outside the door, locking and bolting the door thereafter.

It was time for Alex and Carter to have their own celebration.

*******************************************************************

It was late at night, and Alex Browning could smell death in the air.

He had just missed getting hit by a bus, and he could hear Clear's and Carter's shouts of startle.

Death was after them again, wasn't it? He and Carter had been correct.

Alex spun around, not sure of where he was going.

Just then, a sigh fell, swinging straight for Alex. He gasped. This was the end, wasn't it?"

Then, Alex's back hit the ground. Carter had saved him – his angel of death had come back for him.

"You're next," Carter said, his voice stern yet frightful.

"No, it just skipped me."

Carter stood up. "Then who's next?"

Alex didn't even have the time to get in a loud "No!" before the sign swung back again. Thoughts flashed through Alex's mind at this moment, thoughts of the past, the present... and the future he more than likely no longer had. The future Carter no longer had. Thoughts primarily about Carter, and of the special day they'd had together.

The sign fell, breaking Carter's back upon impact.

So that was it.

He was dead.

Carter Horton was dead.

Just like Tod. Just like Terri. Just like Ms. Lewton. Just like Billy.

Just like all of their friends who had never gotten off of flight 180...

Carter's body fell atop Alex's, and Alex stayed down as the swinging sign came back for a third round.

"Alex!" Clear called out, running over. In the streets, many onlookers watched with an expression of shock painted across their facial features.

The sign stopped swinging, and Alex sat up, cradling Carter's fallen body in his arms. He shook him, praying to God that he was still alive, somehow... but he wasn't.

He was dead.

Carter Horton was dead.

"C'mon, man!" Alex shouted, shaking Carter's body once again, but Carter didn't stir. He even had a small trail of blood leaking out of the corner of his mouth.

Alex could feel tears come to his eyes, but he didn't cry. Not since the night flight 180 had exploded, and Alex had sworn never to cry again.

And he wouldn't.

Before Clear got close enough, Alex leaned down, and placed a gentle, final kiss on Carter's lips.

Alex could taste the alcohol.

The blood.

The death.

And at that moment, Alex knew that he would be running for the rest of his life. He and Clear would both be running, always.

So that's how it was. They managed to cheat death over and over again, death coming back for another round each time. Alex couldn't believe he had gotten on a plane again, and flown back home with Clear. When they had gotten home, things became even worse.

And then, that night in the alley after Clear had just missed getting hit by a car, it happened.

A single brick fell, hitting Alex in the head – busting it right open.

And the last thought that passed through Alex Browning's mind was...

_I wish I could have saved Carter..._

_I love Clear, but... I loved you, too..._

_See you soon..._

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**A/N:** Yeah... that definitely wasn't my best one-shot, but I wanted to write a Final Destination fic after watching the film earlier tonight, and this was just the first thing that popped into my head. I'd like to write another Carter/Alex fic, maybe with a lemon, but I'm still sorta afraid that that could get me flamed... What do you guys think? LOL.

Well, please R&R! Just... no flames, please.

P.S.... I also love Kevin/Wendy from FD3, and would like to write a fic on them, too. In fact, I think I will. xD


End file.
